


Blueberry soda kisses on the back of your hand

by friendly_local_cryptid



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Bickering, Chapter One:, Chapter Two:, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier Bickering, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Established Relationship, Flirting, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Panic, Gay Richie Tozier, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Love Confessions, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Moving In Together, Protective Richie Tozier, after It Chapter One, after it chapter two, but as a joke hahaa oh no wait, but for reals this time, he loses an arm though, i love that when i typed bickering the first suggested tag was the boys, jumps straight to, kind of not really, marriage proposal again, they're baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-21 11:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21073790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendly_local_cryptid/pseuds/friendly_local_cryptid
Summary: Chapter one: they're fourteen and stupidly in love and kind of aware of it. But it's just a joke. Just a joke. "So maybe I should laugh a bit more myself and stop staring at the way you laugh." That kind of joke.Chapter two: they're almost fourty and they survived the killer clown and remembered the person they've been waiting for all their life- so they move in together. Because they're still stupidly in love, and very much aware of it.





	1. ring pops

**Author's Note:**

> A short one, here you go :) 
> 
> Obligatory proposal fic kinda
> 
> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy!

Early morning had arrived with a misty white shawl draping heavily off her shoulders, and, as she peered down at the small town of Derry, two boys shivered, pushing their bikes on their way to school, time lost between sleepy laughter and uncommitted teasing. 

“It’s too fucking early for your bullshit, Richie”, huffed Eddie. 

“It’s way too early for that type of language, young man”, said Richie in a terrible British accent, knocking into his shoulder and pretending he hadn’t almost lost control of his bike in doing so. 

“Shut the fuck up.”

“You talk an awful lot of shit for someone who’s blatantly in love with me, Eds”, Richie said, mock-offended. Eddie turned his head, grumbling, frown deepening, “Huh? What was that, Eddie-bear?”

“_I said_, you wish, dipshit.” 

Richie sighed dramatically, “Ooh, but I do. It’s all I ever do, Eds. I wish and I wish and I yearn, for one day, to be corresponded by my one true love-”

“Shut up, shut up, Richard, I swear to God-”

“God can’t hear you over the sound of my prayers that one day you’ll marry me.”

“I’m literally begging you to stop. Go back to wanting to fuck my mom, that was more bearable.”

“You hurt me, Eddie”, said Richie, hand flying to his chest, “What me and Mrs Kaspbrack had was _ special_.”

“I’m never walking to school with you again”, snapped Eddie, pushing his bike quicker. Richie started to jog beside him.

“You’ve said that like eighty times these last three years.”

“And one day I’ll break, I swear.”

“Break my heart?”

“Break your kneecaps”, he scowled through his suppressed laughter. Richie laughed, clear and loud, echoing through the chill grey morning. 

“Then we won’t be able to bike to school together”, he whined.

“We’ve literally done nothing but push them there and back in these three years, why do you insist on bringing them if we don’t use them? They’re a pai-”

“I bike to your house. And it makes the walk last longer, doesn’t it?”, Eddie turned to frown at Richie’s sincere small smile, and he rolled his eyes. 

“Right.”

They were silent for a moment, Eddie kicking distractedly at a bike pedal as they shuffled along. Richie coughed. 

“Besides, look at our arms. Look at these _ calves_, Eds.”

“You’d get the same effect if you actually rode the bike, dipshit.”

The bickering resumed, they arrived at their school, late as always. Eddie let his bike fall with a painful clatter against the pavement and set off sprinting to class with a screamed _ “Shit! Bye, Rich!”_, like he always did. Richie hummed to himself as he locked both bikes to the bike racks, neatly side by side, like always, and strode off to class calmly, replaying Eddie’s bitten down giggles in the back of his brain. As always. 

  


The bell rang for the last time that day and Richie got up and ran towards the cafeteria’s measly sweets dispenser. He had to hurry. He expertly avoided Bower’s gang and the buffalo rampage of students that was already piling up, scurrying down side corridors. He skidded to a holt in front of the tackily flashing dispenser, all blinding lime green and sickly fucsia. He pressed his face to the filthy glass door as he rummaged blindly in his pockets. _ Yes. Perfect_. He slid the change into the hungrily squeaking money slot and pushed at the right buttons. Two small thuds followed and he grinned, crouching down to take his prize. 

  


“Come on, Richie, what took you so long”, Eddie greeted him as he paced nervously around their bikes. Bill and Stan stood talking serenely next to him. In the distance, he could see Mike biking down the road towards the school and, coming from the back of the building, Beverly and Ben excitedly chatting away, sharing a pair of earphones.

“I was giving you some quality time with your friends, babe”, Richie said, throwing an arm around Eddie’s waist. Eddie squealed and Richie laughed. He saw a couple of students turn to stare them down and he quickly moved his arm up around his shoulders. Freckled shoulders. He couldn’t see them right now, but he knew. 

“No, really, these assholes are ignoring me anyway. Did you get in trouble with Mrs Selving?”

“Nah. I was making out with Katie Shepherd behind the gym.” 

Eddie squirmed, frowning, “No, you weren’t. And that’s fucking gross.”

“What’s gross about _ Katie Shepherd_?”, he said, wiggling his eyebrows in disbelief. Eddie looked at him for a few indecipherable seconds, then shrugged. 

“You. You’re gross.”

“Oh, I know, babe.”

Eddie pushed him away with a groan, “Just untie the bikes, asshole.” 

“Is that why you were waiting for me?”

“Duh.”

“I gave you a key to this lock, like, four months ago, Eds.”

“Oh”, Eddie blushed angrily, “Well, I must’ve fucking forgot, then. Untie them and we can get going.”

Richie grinned but obliged and kept his mouth shut for once.

  
  


Eddie was staring up at his house and Richie stood patiently beside him. He couldn’t stand watching the daily terrified struggle raging on inside his dark brown eyes, but he waited and sighed. After a minute, he took Eddie’s bike from him in silence and pushed it into his front yard, Eddie following sheepishly behind him. He looked so scared and so embarrassed and Richie looked away to avoid taking his hand. He gripped his elbow instead. 

“Come on. Let’s go for a ride to the Barrens.”

“I’ve gotta- ma- my mom, she-”

“Mrs K will survive you being half an hour late. And she’ll see you’ve been by and left the bike, she won’t think you’ve ran off again.” 

Eddie grimaced painfully at the memory. The yelling. His mother shaking Richie by the shoulders for taking his baby for a whole day without her knowing, how she almost _ died _ of worry, how could they, _ how could you_. 

“Richie, ma will be waiting for me”, he hated how his voice changed the second he stepped into his front yard. So small and frail. Richie’s hand slipped from his elbow to his wrist and he watched it go with baited breath. 

“She’ll be fine, I’ll let her yell at me if she has to. Just half an hour, come on. Just a bike ride.”

“I don’t want her yelling at you, though. She doesn’t even want me around you”, he whispered. Richie huffed out a laugh. 

“That’s fine, Eds. Mother-in-laws, huh?”, he said, nudging him, winking exaggeratedly.

Eddie laughed a tiny breathless laugh, eyes darting to the windows of his house, “Fuck off, Richie.”

“Come on, then, doctor K. Let’s ride”, he pulled at his wrist and Eddie followed, guts twisting with overwhelming relief and relentless fear and something else. He swallowed it all down together like a pill. 

They rode all the way to the Barrens on Richie’s bike, Eddie perched precariously on the luggage carrier rack, arms wrapped tightly around Richie’s waist and eyes half squinted shut.

Richie stopped a little sooner than he intended, if only because he was sure Eddie could feel how fast his heart was hammering against his ribcage and he’d run out of steep hills to blame. He pushed the bike against a tree and took Eddie’s wrist again, as if he might run back home away from him at any moment, a scared little finch flying right into a well-fed housecat’s claws, singing with relief before getting playfully torn to shreds. Richie gritted his teeth and pushed Mrs Kaspbrack out of his mind. He looked back at her hesitantly staring son, staring at him, at him just thinking, him just holding his wrist, and grinned, guiding him down into the Barrens in silence. 

He sat on a rusty abandoned pipe next to the river and Richie turned to look at the other, still standing, boy, unsure all of a sudden.

“You know, Rich…”

“Yeah?”

“Actually, have you had your tetanus shot?”

“What?”

“These pipes are fucking dangerous. And you’re sitting there with your pasty-ass legs out, even though it’s getting cold now-”

“-to show off all the bike pushing-”

“-and you’re going to cut yourself on some rusty gross old pipe and, probably, fucking die, so-”

“Right. Well, I was going to wait for the right moment, but this is fine”, Richie pushed himself off the pipe and dropped to the muddy ground.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Eddie’s scrunched up face turned pink as Richie pushed himself on to one knee, and he took out a little packaged ring pop sweet from his pocket.

“I’m proposing to you, asshole”, Richie rolled his eyes, willing the blush off his cheekbones. This was supposed to be a funny bit, damnit. Eddie was supposed to push him into the river or something, laughing through his angry scowl. But, oh God, did he look fucking adorable, mouth hanging open, freckles, bright dark doe eyes, all gold and strawberry and almond. 

“What?”

“Eddie Spaghetti, Eddie my love, will you make me the happiest prepubescent teen in Derry, Maine? Please say yes, these were exactly a dolar.” 

Eddie finally snapped out of it and started to laugh, full on laugh, loud and bright and only moderately hysterical. Richie watched in awe as Eddie finally dissolved into breathless little tinkering giggles, spattering laughter, bent over. Unknown to him, he would spend the next thirty years trying to find that laugh again.

“Yes, yes.”

“Huh?”, Richie searched for Eddie’s face, momentarily transfixed.

“Yes, you idiot. Give me my fucking ring, then.” 

And then, miracle of miracles, Eddie sunk down into the mud in front of him, leaving Richie breathless, staring at his now filthy knees. As Eddie continued to giggle, Richie remembered the point of the bit. He reached out and took Eddie’s hands, slowly and reverently sliding the bright blue ring pop on to a soft cool finger. They both stared at it for a long time, Eddie’s small spouts of laughter the only sound to accompany the rushing river and the rushing in Richie’s ears, sitting in the mud. 

Finally, Eddie looked up at Richie and grinned. 

“What about you, then?” 

“Huh?”

“Your ring? My husband better wear a ring”, they both giggled stupidly as Richie pulled out the second ring, bright red cherry. He really hadn’t expected to get this far. 

Eddie snatched it from him, and just how utterly gleefully nervous he seemed was making something catch fire between Richie’s lungs. Then Eddie took his hand, fully took it, as he slipped on the ring with his other hand, and that fire spread, furiously reducing his guts to sizzling embers. 

They stayed like that, laughing and looking, laughing and looking, in the mud, blueberry soda and red cherry, for a long time, and it felt like a confession, it felt like something else, it felt like a step, a leap, miles away from the joke. They stayed like that until they reached the edge of town and Richie carefully pulled his hand away, laughing, looking pained, looking burned. In Eddie’s mind, they lay like that that night, as he admired the silly gross ring in the white moonlight on his pillow, eyes wide and awed and sleepless. In Richie’s mind, they stayed like that as he sucked on the sweet, sitting next to his slowly cooling bath, staring blankly at the swaying bubbles, seeing Eddie’s laugh in every one of them. In his mind, they stayed like that as he made himself a necklace with the remaining plastic wring and a piece of frayed string. In his mind, they stayed like that even as he saw Eddie’s bare hand the next day, as he saw Eddie’s eyes wondering, strained on his new pendant, tiny smile and pink cheeks. It felt like a confession.


	2. again, and again, and I'd do it twice more

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two :) they're all grown up now, Established Relationship and Moving In Together, and all.  
After It chapter two but canon can fuck off. Eddie loses an arm but he lives because I say so and I have a bit of a God complex. Enjoy!

“Thank you ever so much, dear child. The Gods will be pleased with your offerings”, Richie bowed and Eddie nudged him out of the way, squeezing between him and the poor welcoming neighbour at the door.

“Hi, Eddie Kaspbrack. Apologies about my- him. I bet him he’d weird out all the neighbours by tomorrow and he took that as a challenge to do it in half the time.”

“Oh!”, the middle aged woman with dark eyes and kind dimples pushed a mountain of chocolate muffins towards him, smiling, “Hello, I’m Ainara. Thought I’d drop by, say hello to the new couple.”

“Oh, we’re far from new. Actually, the timeline is very fucking complicated, so-”

“Richie-”

“I meant new in the neighbourhood”, Ainara laughed, a honeyed thing, “Oh, wait, are you- I’m so sorry if I scare you off over this- have I seen you on TV?”, she asked Richie and Eddie sighed. 

“You might, you might. Hi, absurdly famous comedian and up-and-coming actor _ slash _ director, three Netflix specials, Richie Tozier. A pleasure.” 

“Okay, Rich, a little bit of sentence in your ego there.”  


“_A bit of sentence in your ego_\- Eddie, darling, you are a _ riot_. Isn’t my husband hilarious?”

“Not husband”, Eddie rolled his eyes, taking the plate from Ainara, who was watching in amusement. 

“Not yet.”

Eddie tried hard to hide his rising blush as he smiled wide at the woman, feeling the healed stitches in his cheek pull lightly in protest. Even though he hated it when Richie fussed over his missing arm, he handed over the heavy plate gratefully as he beckoned it towards him with a hooking motion of the finger.

“Right, so _ thank you _ so much, Ainara, really, this was very sweet and unexpected.”

“We fully expected a neighbour to bring baked goods at some point”, Richie added, just because he could, and riling him up was his favourite extreme sport. 

“It was unexpected so soon, and very kind”, Eddie soldiered on.

“It’s tradition.”

“Okay, well, thank you, sorry, I hope we can invite you in for dinner once everything is set up here. Thanks, bye!”

“Oh, I- okay, b- I’m on the fourth floor- okay, bye”, Eddie pushed the door closed with a wave and turned to scowl at Richie, who was smiling stupidly at him, leaning against the doorframe. 

“I fucking hate you.”

“No you fucking don’t.”

“Yes, I fucking-”, Richie pushed a muffin into Eddie’s hand and it was still a little warm and he couldn’t stay mad with a warm chocolate muffin in his hand and his annoying-ass partner standing right there, grinning adoringly at him. He sighed, biting into the muffin, “No, I fucking don’t.”

“Oh, watch it”, Richie leaned over him to wipe away chocolate from his chin, “A bit of sentence in your _ magdalena _there. I’m using that now. That means muffin, by the way.”

“I know it- stop stealing all my jokes, you ass.”

“Who’s the stand-up-wash-up in this family, Eds?” he said, eyes twinkling, as he licked the chocolate off his finger and took a muffin of his own. 

“You, God knows why. It should’ve been me”, Eddie turned and marched to the mountain of cardboard boxes that was currently their living room, Richie in tow. 

“You’d hate being a comedian”, he left the plate on a box labeled _ mrs k’s old junk oh my._

“I would. It’s so fucking stupid.”

“Keep insulting my life choices, baby”, Richie said, wrapping his arms around his waist and nuzzling his neck.

“Fuck off, Rich, we have shit to do”, Eddie tried not to laugh and squirm, and failed. He batted him away, feeling the ghost of his lost limb with sudden gut-wrenching clarity, and steadfastly ignored it. Richie’s grip steadied and he half-lifted him, half-hauled him on to the sofa. They fell back, laughing, and Richie immediately started leaving insistent sweet pecks all over his face, catching his lips with a breathless chuckle, “Richie! Get off, you’ve got stuff to do.”

“You’re going by Stuff now?”

“Fuck _ off_, we’ll never get anything done.”

“Oh, no, what will Ainara think if we don’t invite her to dinner immediately, or, even worse, there’s a _ box _ in the _ recently moved into _ apartment.”

“Come on, let’s at least get the cutlery all out and set up the bed for tonight.”

“Ooh, m’kay”, Richie pressed another kiss on Eddie’s jaw, fingers digging into his sides, and he screamed with ticklish laughter. 

“Stop, or I swear-” 

“Okay, okay. Let’s set up the bed.”

“_And the cutlery._”

“Sure.”

  
  


They didn’t set up the bed that night, lost in conversation over old memories they kept pulling out of boxes, but the sofa was almost big enough for two once pulled out. Richie lay down when the sunset was still painting everything in glowing amber, peach and honey browns, jet lag from their flight across the country kicking in in full force, and, remembering the chocolate muffins next to him, reached over to get one. 

“Bro, that’s fucking gross”, Eddie took the plate far away from them before dropping onto the sofa himself and lying on Richie’s chest with a soft _ oof_. 

“You know”, Richie took another bite before offering it to Eddie, who just scrunched up his face and shone his teeth, which he swiftly translated to _ I just cleaned my teeth and I’m going to sleep and I’m not participating in this casually eating in bed thing and that’s a delicious sugary monstrosity and I’ve already had two today which is frankly unacceptable, you are so fucking gross Richard. _ “You know, it’s really fucking weird to have you calling me bro when I just had my tongue down your throat. You don’t have to be The Aggressively Straight Straight Guy around your own boyfriend.”

“I don’t-”

“Dude, I get it. I really do. Derry. I get it.”

Eddie sighed, shuffled up so his head was resting below his chin, “Yeah, anyway, you haven’t kissed me in, like, five hours. After the seventh hour devoid of affection I start to turn straight.”

Richie laughed, sending comforting vibrations into Eddie’s chest, and pulled him up, one arm around his waist and one hand on his neck, “That’s unacceptable.”

“Yeah, I think so too.”

“Better do something about it”, they bumped noses.

“You should.”

“Or, you know, I’m really tired and there’s still two hours till the danger zone, so-”

“Shut up, shut up, Richie”, he kissed him. He kissed him again. And again, just for luck.

  
  


Richie woke up late as always. Groaning at the heavy sunlight streaming into the living room, he rolled over, sending his stomach on a whirl as he nearly fell off the sofa. He pulled at the lazily thrown on duvet and winced at the crane in his neck. He heard the light shuffling of papers and cardboard and Eddie softly humming something familiar. Richie grinned, blinking dreamless sleep out of his eyes, and he turned to watch him, sitting cross legged on the floor, Richie’s hoodie on, peering into boxes. After quietly listening for a few minutes, he joined in, startling him, voice still hoarse from sleep.

“Eddie my love, I love you so

How I've waited for you you'll never know

Please Eddie, don't make me wait too long~”

“Stop. Morning.”

“I knew you secretly love it when I sing this to you.”

“Fuck off.”

“Good morning, sunshine”, Richie stretched and got out of bed, making his way over to him. Eddie pulled him down distractedly for a kiss on the cheek as he continued to look through piles of old postcards, and Richie grinned. Maybe it was the twenty seven years of unknown pining, unresolved first love and all, but he really felt like a teenager in love sometimes, “What’re you looking at?”

“Look with me?”

“Sure.”

It was weird how you could fit all of your life in boxes, in little cubes to be carried around and labeled stupid things but not too stupid incase a friendly new neighbour insists on helping. All these memories. All that junk that should have been thrown out years ago, but hasn’t and probably never will be. 

And then Eddie pulled out a shoebox, labeled _ Richie’s _ in little Eddie’s handwriting, from his mother’s old house stuff and they sat and stared. 

“Open it?” Richie prompted, finally. 

“Um…”, Eddie looked oddly uncomfortable. 

“You don’t want to?”

“No, it’s just. I don’t… remember this.”

“Oh”, the monumental memory loss thing they’d gone through was still very much present. Sometimes Richie would see or hear or smell something, and a giant piece of a puzzle he wasn’t even aware of building would slot into place, and he’d remember the weirdest details of the most mundane childhood things with overwhelming intensity. Other times, he’d know something was missing, like barely catching glimpses of a fading dream, “Go on, Eds. Open it and maybe you’ll remember.” 

Eddie frowned, tracing his name in sharpie, scribbled hurriedly, shoved under the bed with the ink still wet. He opened it. Inside were several things, and with each one they remembered, and Richie felt his teenage crush type of love maturing and strengthening and becoming something so overwhelming he had to reach for Eddie, hold him against him as they looked. 

There were a collection of movie tickets, pressed together with a rubber band, all films they’d watched together, almost every Saturday evening, rushing Eddie home afterwards, smelling of popcorn and spilt soda and the distinct cinema scent that clung to their clothes, running down the main street with salted finger tips. Laced together, sometimes. Children playing, friends, something more, unspoken but known. Laughter and whispers and shushes pressed between them in the dark, immense, infinite burgundy and marine salt and burnt liquorice sea around them, everyone else just sightless birds perched to watch the same screen. A place where they were safe. 

There was a concert ticket taped to the back of a polaroid. Two ruffled up teenagers, high off the adrenaline of live music and freer people in the city. Eddie’s face pressed into Richie’s neck, both laughing, tears rolling, red faced, blue faced, green, pink, turquoise, silver faces, completely covered in glitter they’d later rigorously, painfully, scrub away. In the background, the world moved and swirled and screamed and danced, and they moved in par. Beverly Marsh’s handwriting, on the polaroid, _ Good luck, my beautiful boys._

There was a stack of school notes, passed under the table, thrown over heads, tucked together, fragments of conversation. 

“_ Eddie my love, pay attention to me”, _

_ “Look at Stanny and Bill, they think they’re subtle poor babies”, _

_ “Meet at Barrens at 5? Got new comic this weekend. We can build sandcastles!”, _

_ “A sandcastle for a princess, Eds ;)”, _

_ “R+E?? No, I haven’t been around there. Probably Randy B and Emmely Shack? Why do you ask?”, _

_ “Good job, asshole >:( <3”, _

_ “Well, I couldn’t concentrate on a fucking presentation with your cute ass looking at me, not my fault.”, _

_ “Hahah Beeeen Bev already fucking knows, my guy, stop stressing”, _

_ “I’m sorry, Eddie. Will you walk with me to school tomorrow? Please”, _

_ “Because I’m a fucking asshole. I’m just scared. I’m sorry.”, _

_ “Hey, Eddie-bear guess what?? My sister got a new video game. Guess what we’re stealing tonight???”, _

_ “Cute cute CUTE you’re so fucking cute I want to kiss all over your cute face muah MUAH cutie”, _

_ “Eds, will you stay at my house this weekend? Maybe you should let mrs K calm down a bit. You know my parents fucking adore you.”, _

_ “Please, Eddie, I don’t feel safe.”, _

_ “Hey FUCK YOU, let me care.” _

There was a photo album. So many faces, so much laughter. None of the tears would get captured, of course. It was still nice to remember, like this. Richie snickered as Eddie hurried past a page dedicated solely to a picture of the both of them, pressed yellow and lilac flowers and cut out hearts framing their smiling faces. 

And then they found the blue plastic ring from a ring pop, carefully cleaned, inside a pristine envelope. Richie watched patiently with baited breath as Eddie opened it with one hand and took the ring out, almost reverently, turning it in his fingers.

“Huh. I remember that, actually”, he said, holding it out for Richie to look. 

“Yeah. Me too”, Richie smiled, feeling very sad and very alone all of a sudden, which made no sense, “I thought you threw it away.”

Eddie peered up at him, mouth worked into a thin line, “I didn’t.”

“Thought your mom told you to, all the germs that probably had. And coming from me.”

“She did. And I didn’t eat the sweet, you idiot. I threw it away and cleaned the ring and hid it.”

“Of course.”

“You kept it. Do you still have it?”

“I don’t know. Maybe- probably. Hidden somewhere. I wore it as a necklace for, like, four months and you didn’t say anything.”

Eddie sighed, took Richie’s hand pressing the ring between them. “What could I have said, Rich?” 

Richie looked at the man in front of him and realised anything Eddie could have possibly said would have only driven them away from each other, out of fear or self-hatred or crushed hopes of a future like the rest of their classmates. A future they could hold now, nurture, grow old, old with old love. Like the rest of them. No more panicked exhilarating carvings into a bridge, checking over his shoulder. No more shame over the brushing of finger tips. 

“Come on, get up, get up”, Richie pulled at him and Eddie followed him up, gripping his hand. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” 

Richie laughed almost hysterically, taking the ring from Eddie. He sank down to one knee and Eddie’s doe eyes widened, shining dark and confused and hopeful and excited. 

“I’m proposing to you, asshole.”

Eddie stared, before he began to shake with laughter. Tears started to well up in his eyes. “You’re serious.”

“Absolutely”, Richie started laughing too, presenting the plastic ring before him, “Eds, will you marry me?”

“You’re actually serious? Richie, I swear, if this-”

“I’m fucking serious, spaghetti head, please give me an answer.”

“Yes! Fuck, yes”, Eddie wheezed out, bending over from laughter.

“Are _ you _ serious-”

“Yes, you idiot, give me my fucking ring pop and _ marry me _”, and he dropped to the ground, face to face. Richie laughed, leaning forward to messily drop a kiss on the corner of his mouth. 

He took Eddie’s hand and slid the ring on to his pinky, feeling breathless, feeling like a bonfire. He was allowed to burn now. Eddie laced their hands together, and Richie pulled him up and onto the sofa, holding him with fierce tenderness. Eddie rested his head on his shoulder, still laughing. 

“We’re married?”

“Yeah.”

“You proposed to me with a ring pop.”

“Twice.”

“And I fucking said yes.”

“Twice.”

“May that be testament of how much I love you.”

“We wasted a lot of time, didn’t we? Fucking idiots.”

“Fucking idiots. But we’re here now.” 

And Richie could do little more than agree, and kiss him again, properly, because he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta say, not super thrilled with this story BUT I had a lot of fun writing it and I needed it out of my system. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Validation via kudos and comments mean the world. Even if you hated it tell me why in the comments please, I'll print and frame it ❤️


End file.
